


A Void Full Of Stars

by writersblockink



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Carlos is a scientist, Cecil Is a Good Boyfriend, Dorks in Love, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, Oral Sex, a scientist is always smooth, carlos needs to learn how to put other things besides science first, cecil is a writer, cecilos - Freeform, nerd references like woah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2165085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writersblockink/pseuds/writersblockink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A -cheesy- classic high school au, in which Cecil finally gets asked out by his crush, and they fall in love while they bond over nerd stuff like the dorks they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The bell rang loudly in Cecil ears, and he ducked into the hall to escape it. His backpack caught on something, and he turned to find Dana holding onto a purple strap.

“You didn’t think you could escape me that easily, did you?” she asked, smirking.

“I’m just trying to get to class on time for once.” Cecil rolled his eyes and pushed his way down the hall, literally spinning to avoid an arm swung in the middle of someone’s story. He weaved his way through the halls, slipping between people with the grace of a leaf on the wind. He should probably wait for Dana, but that would mean spending more time in the halls, surrounded by people…nah, she would be fine.

“How the fuck do you do that?” Dana called, fighting her way through the crowd. “You’re like, the ninja of the hallway.”

“Years of practice,” Cecil replied with a smile. “I am the master of avoiding whatever the hallway throws at me.” He turned around, walking backwards as he slipped into his next class. Cecil laughed as Dana’s eyes went wide—and he ran into someone.

“Strex, I’m sorr-“ Cecil’s voice quit as he turned. Carlos Ramirez smiled at him, sliding around Cecil into the hall. The sleeve of his white jacket grazed Cecil’s bare arm, and he was so close, Cecil could have touched his perfect hair.

“It’s no problem,” Carlos said, completely unfazed. “I should’ve been more careful where I was going. It’s Cecil, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Cecil gasped, classily.

“I’m Carlos.” He smiled again, and Cecil had no words for how perfect his smile was. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Cecil said again, and he wanted to smack himself. “That would be neat!”

_Oh my god._

Cecil opened his mouth to try to fix the catastrophe he’d said, but the warning bell rang and Carlos seemed to suddenly realize the halls had emptied.

“Sorry, Cecil, I’m going to be late for class.” He waved, sprinting down the hall.

“Master of the hallway,” Dana said smugly as she slipped into class. Cecil’s head was spinning. He was sure he failed the math quiz ten minutes later, but he hardly even noticed. _Carlos had spoken_ to him. When the bell rang for lunch, Dana nearly dragged him through the halls.

Maureen sat down at the lunch table, slamming her tray down angrily.

“I am so sick of interning at that stupid radio station,” she said. “ _Maureen get me this, Maureen get me that. Oh, Maureen, you don’t mind reorganizing the fucking ancient filing cabinet, do you? Oh good, there might be snakes back there, but you’ll probably be fine if they bite you._ ”

“It’s not that bad,” Dana said. “I worked there for a few months, and I can promise you there aren’t any snakes in the filing room. Plus, the wifi is pretty great.”

“I should get paid more for all the work they make me do.”

“You don’t get paid at all,” Cecil reminded her. “You’re only interning there for your college application.”

“Well,” Maureen mumbled, stabbing her mashed potatoes, “then I should be getting paid something.”

“Someone’s grumpy today,” Dana said, eating a spoonful of pudding. “I know something that’ll brighten your day.”

“I bet you don’t.”

“Guess who talked to Cecil today?” Dana asked her, nudging Cecil with her elbow. Cecil bit his lip to keep a smile down.

“Sarah,” Maureen guessed. Cecil grimaced, shaking his head.

“That’s definitely not something to brighten your day,” he said.

“Carlos,” Dana said, enunciating his name carefully. Maureen nearly choked on her soda, staring at Cecil in disbelief.

“ _Carlos_? Perfect Carlos, the guy you’ve been crushing on since freshman year? That Carlos?” Cecil nodded, feeling his face erupt in blush. “Well what did he say? Details people!”

“He knew my name, and he said,” Cecil couldn’t help but smile at the memory, “he said, ‘Maybe I’ll see you around.’ Oh god, he was so perfect, and I made a complete fool of myself. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just went, ugh, I said, ‘That would be neat!’”

Maureen flinched. “Ouch, that’s rough, buddy.”

“So all through class, I was telling Cecil how he obviously has to see him again,” Dana said, stuffing a sandwich in her mouth. “I’ve got it all planned out.”

“Spill. How are we going to get these two together?”

“Guys,” Cecil said. “I can handle my own relationships.”

“Please, the only sentence you’ve ever said to him in two years is ‘That would be neat.’ You obviously need our help.” Dana said.

“Your last boyfriend was so long ago, you can’t even remember his name,” Cecil said. “I’m going to take a walk. You guys can plan all you want, but nothing will ever get Carlos to go out with me.”

“It’s meant to be!” Dana called after him.

Cecil walked straight out the back door of the school, towards the football field. No one would be out there until after school, and Cecil found being alone cleared his head. There was no way Carlos would ever like him. He was so perfect and smart and Cecil was…well. Cecil.

Carlos had moved to Desert Bluffs during freshman year, and it had taken Cecil exactly one look to fall in love with him. Carlos’ hair back then was long and shaggy, all crazy curls in his face. But when Cecil had walked in on the first day of sophomore year, Carlos had cut it short on the sides. It was still long on the top, but Cecil had just about had a heart attack, right in the middle of the hall.

Of course, if Carlos had kept his hair long, Cecil would have never been able to notice that he wore pearl earrings. Every day. Cecil loved it.

He rounded a corner and his heart stopped. There, leaning against the shed where the school kept the sports equipment, was Carlos. He had his headphones in, watching something on his phone. Cecil turned to go, he would explode on the spot if Carlos caught him staring, when he heard Carlos…singing?

Wait.

Cecil knew that song, would know it anywhere.

“ _Take me out, to the black, tell ‘em I ain’t coming back…_ ” It was soft, Carlos was almost whispering it, but he was definitely singing what Cecil thought he was singing. Cecil mouthed the lyrics silently to himself as Carlos continued.

“ _There’s no place I can be, since I found Serenity…But you can’t take the sky from me._ ” Carlos closed his eyes and smiled slightly, and Cecil couldn’t help but smile too. Then Carlos opened his eyes and looked up, and jumped when he realized Cecil was watching him.

“Holy—oh, Cecil, it’s you.” Carlos took out his headphones, clutching his chest. “You scared me.”

“You—you like Firefly?” Cecil asked, stepping closer. Carlos grinned, and everything about him was perfect.

“I’ve been watching it during my lunch hour lately, I’m on episode eight.”

“Wait until you get to the end,” Cecil replied, shaking his head.

“I’m so glad they made the movie, I couldn’t imagine a show this brilliant just…stopping. How could they cancel it?” Cecil’s heart was beating so fast, he was sure Carlos could see it through his chest.

“Desert Bluffs is a hard place for a show about space cowboys to get much popularity. People don’t understand it.”

“Maybe if we protested, they’d bring it back,” Carlos offered.

“They might, but I think we’d need more than two signatures on a petition for Joss Whedon to notice us.”

Carlos smiled, seeming to think something over when he said, “You know, I’ve got two hours before I have to be back for biology, I was going to get coffee…”

Cecil stopped breathing. _Is he really going where I think he’s going?_

“Do you think you might want to come with me?” Cecil’s jaw dropped. Perfect Carlos just asked me out on a date. Cecil actually had English right after lunch, but Carlos didn’t need to know that. He was a good student; he could afford to skip a class.

“I would love to,” Cecil said, amazed that he’d been able to speak at all with the rate his heart was going. Carlos pushed off the side of the shed, grinning like he’d just been given a present.

“Great, my car’s in the side lot.” Cecil followed him quietly. He pinched his arm to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

The ride there wasn’t nearly as awkward as it should have been. Carlos was quiet for a minute, but after he realized Cecil wasn’t the talkative type (and scared shitless because was this a date with Carlos, but hopefully he didn’t notice that much), he told Cecil about his classes. Carlos had finished all his requirements for graduating in junior year, so he was spending his senior year taking science courses to hopefully get ahead on his college classes.

“I want to major in science, if you couldn’t tell,” he said, turning to smile at Cecil as he parked his old ford in front of the town’s best coffee shop, Erika’s.

“You have good taste in coffee shops,” Cecil said, pulling on the door handle. He pushed on the door, but it wouldn’t open, no matter how hard he pushed.

“Oh, sorry about that,” Carlos said. Then, to Cecil’s horror, he leaned across his legs and reached for the door. Cecil sat, stunned, staring at Carlos’ face so close to him, and if he only leaned down he could kiss that perfect neck—

There was a click as Carlos unlocked Cecil’s door. “I forgot that you have to unlock that door manually. I don’t have passengers often.” He sat back up and slid out of the car.

Cecil couldn’t move. He was physically stuck to the seat, and his face felt at least a million degrees. He jumped as Carlos knocked on his window.

“Cecil,” he said through the glass, “are you coming?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Cecil said, gathering himself and following Carlos into Erika’s.

The shop was pretty full, but they managed to find a table next to the windows that lined the right wall. Carlos put his jacket on the top, and together they stood in line to order.

“What can I get you boys?” the barista asked. Her nametag read Erika, but then again, everyone that worked there had a nametag with Erika on it, so it was hard to tell if it was her real name.

“Just black, for me,” Carlos said, pulling out his wallet. Cecil waited for him to pay, but then Carlos turned and looked at Cecil like he was waiting for him to order too. “I’ve got this, Cecil, what do you want?”

“Oh, um,” Cecil stuttered, looking from Carlos to Erika. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, this was my idea,” Carlos replied, smiling. “Whatever you want.”

Cecil couldn’t help but smile as Carlos looked at him. “Um,” he said, turning to Erika. “I’d like a mocha with a shot of espresso, and a little bit of cinnamon.”

As he said his order, Carlos’ look turned into one of confusion. “Please,” Cecil added, quietly. A small smile graced Carlos’ lips as he paid for the coffee, and the two of them fell into silence as they waited for their drinks.

_Oh god, Cecil thought as Erika eyed them with a smile. She probably thinks we’re dating, everyone here probably thinks that. This isn’t even a date, is it?_

“They’re not wrong,” Carlos said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Wh-what?” Cecil gasped, hoping against hope that he hadn’t just said everything he thought out loud.

“The coffee does taste like it was made by angels,” he said, pointing to the sign above the menu.

“Oh, right, it totally is,” Cecil said, visibly relaxing. Erika gave them their coffee, and they both sat down.

Cecil took a sip of his mocha, letting the coffee burn his throat on the way down. Maybe if he was lucky, the heat would make him burst into flames and he wouldn’t have to sit through this not-a-date, waiting for the moment where he would inevitably screw up and scare Carlos away.

“How’s your coffee?” Carlos asked, stirring some sugar into his cup.

“It’s good,” Cecil replied awkwardly. “There isn’t enough cinnamon in it, but that’s okay.”

“They would probably add more if you asked them to.”

“I know, but it’s still good.” Cecil pointed to Carlos’ cup, which was still having sugar poured into it. “They would do that for you too, if you asked.”

Carlos laughed, warm and low, and Cecil decided that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to hear it every day. “Yeah, I don’t know, I like doing it myself, you know?”

“It must come with being a scientist,” Cecil said, leaning on the table. Carlos laughed again.

“A scientist is always self-reliant,” he said. “It’s the first thing a scientist is.” They fell into a comfortable silence, just looking at each other like they were seeing each other for the first time.

“Well, there you go,” Cecil said after a moment. “We figured it out. A scientific discovery.”

Carlos leaned forward, so that his hands on the table were almost touching Cecil’s. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

They talked casually after that, discussing Firefly and other movies they’d liked. Carlos was a huge superhero fan, but leaned towards Marvel more than DC.

“Batman is just so overrated,” Carlos said. “Anybody can be a hero with enough money.”

“Iron Man was a millionaire,” Cecil argued. “He was only able to be a hero because of his money.”

“But Stark built his own armor; Wayne had his built for him. Stark is a genius with motivation. Wayne is a baby using his daddy’s money to take revenge.”

“But it’s _Batman_ ,” Cecil said. “He’s a classic.”

“That doesn’t make him better than Hawkeye,” Carlos said, sipping his coffee.

“Hawkeye?” Cecil said, insulted. “You think Hawkeye is better than Batman?”

“I think basically anyone is better than Batman.” They were arguing, but they weren’t fighting. It was easy, talking to Carlos.

Carlos also didn’t have any specific field he wanted to study. He just wanted to learn science, in all its forms. They discovered that they had the same taste in music, and as they talked, all of the earlier awkwardness dissolved.

“So what do you want to do after high school?” Carlos asked. Cecil’s smile faltered for just a second, and Carlos looked afraid that he’d said something wrong. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomf-“

“No,” Cecil said, putting his hand out. “No, it’s alright. This is just usually the point where I tell the truth and whoever I’m talking to runs away.”

Carlos’ eyebrows furrowed, and he leaned in towards Cecil. “Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly considered normal around here.”

“Well, neither am I. So tell me what you want to do after high school.” Carlos smiled, and for a moment, Cecil considered lying—saying he wanted to study math or something. But Carlos was so open with him, and seemed to genuinely care about what he had to say…he couldn’t lie to Carlos.

“I want to be a writer,” Cecil said.

“What’s weird about that?” Carlos asked. “What do you write about?”

“Well…it’s this idea I’ve had since I was little. It’s called Night Vale, it’s about…” He stopped.

“Go on,” Carlos said. “I won’t think it’s weird.”

“No, it’s not that,” Cecil said, feeling heat rush to his face. “I just don’t get to explain it often, and it’s pretty weird, I’m not sure where to start.”

Carlos nodded, leaning back in his chair. He sipped his coffee while he waited for Cecil to figure out how he wanted to proceed, never once taking his eyes off of him.

“Okay, here goes. Night Vale is this town, somewhere in Nevada or New Mexico or somewhere in the middle of a desert, I don’t know exactly where. And Night Vale defies all the laws of science and physics and logic. Things there just _are_ , and nobody gives a shit about how weird it is. A character named Hiram runs for mayor at one point, and he’s literally a five-headed dragon.”

“That sounds…fascinating,” Carlos said, and it nearly made Cecil fall backwards out of his chair. “I’d love to read it, if that would be okay.”

“Are…are you sure?” Cecil asks. “It’s probably not very good, I mean, no one’s ever read it except me and Dana and Maureen—“

“Cecil. I’d love to read it.” Cecil clung to the way Carlos said his name, the way it rolled off his tongue like a precious gem. Cecil had never cared for his name much; he’d assumed when—if—he was ever published, he’d change it for the cover. But when Carlos said his name, Cecil thought that maybe, he’d keep it.

“Uh…alright then,” Cecil said, a smile creeping onto his face. He was absolutely sure he was blushing furiously now, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.  
They talked until Carlos noticed the time with a jump. By the time they got back to the school, Carlos was already ten minutes late for class.

“I’m sorry I have to rush off like this,” Carlos said, reaching over to unlock Cecil’s door.

“It’s alright,” Cecil said as they climbed out. “I totally understand.”

They ran to the building together, but Carlos stopped at the door. He looked at Cecil, his eyes bright.

“I was planning on being back at least a half hour early. You weren’t supposed to be that much fun to talk to.” He grinned as they both tried to catch their breath from the running.

Well, Cecil wasn’t sure his heartbeat was from the run as much as it was Carlos standing so close, telling him he was fun to talk to.

“I’m sorry,” Cecil said, but he didn’t mean it.

“Don’t be,” Carlos said. He pursed his lips, before holding out his hand. “Can I see your phone?” Cecil handed it to him, and Carlos typed something before handing it back to him.

“What did you do?” Cecil asked.

“I just sent myself a text, so I’d have your number.” Cecil laughed, putting the phone in his pocket.

“You could have just asked me for it,” he told Carlos.

“Yeah, but this way I know you’re not lying.” Carlos smiled, biting his lip just a little bit.

And then he was kissing Cecil. Just softly. Just…gently. Cecil barely had time to close his eyes before Carlos was pulling away, just the slightest blush on his cheeks.

“Bye, Cecil,” he said, slipping inside the school.

Cecil had to stand outside his next class for five solid minutes before he could walk in and not be smiling like an idiot. The teacher, Mr. Cranor, eyed him suspiciously, but didn’t say anything. God forbid he stop talking about psychology for two minutes. Not that Cecil wanted to be asked why he was late in front of the entire class.  
Cecil concentrated to the lecture as best he could, and honestly got some decent notes in, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Carlos’ lips on his, tasting like coffee. He pulled his phone out under the desk to see what Carlos had texted.

**I’ll call you.**

Cecil smiled at his notes, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

When the final bell rang, Cecil headed for the parking lot. Dana was his ride home, so he wouldn’t have to endure the bus for his last year of high school.  
Dana was quiet as Cecil slid into the passenger seat. She waited until she was on the road before she spoke again.

“So, where were you during English?” she asked, even though it wasn’t a question.

“How did you know I wasn’t in English?” Cecil asked. “You have calc that period.”

“Maureen told me, what do you think? So, where were you?”

“I went for a walk.” Cecil wasn’t sure if he wanted Dana and Maureen to know about Carlos just yet. What if Carlos never called? What if that date was the end of them, if was even a date at all? He didn’t want to get their hopes up. That would mean getting his hopes up too, and he didn’t want to risk shattering them.

“A walk, for an hour and a half? It’s not like you to skip class, Cecil, so it was either something really bad or really good.” She honked at a truck as it pulled in front of her. Dana was sweet, but behind the wheel she could turn into a real monster.

“I might have run into Carlos,” Cecil said slowly.

“You WHAT?” Dana screamed, tearing her eyes away from the road. If she wasn’t driving, Cecil was sure she’d have him flat on his back, demanding answers. “Oh my god, tell me everything. You skipped class for Carlos, oh my god. Did he skip too?”

“No, he had a free period. It wasn’t a big deal, we went out for coffee—“

“He invited you out for coffee, and you didn’t think it was a big deal?”

“You need to calm down, or I’m not telling you anything,” Cecil said. Dana looked angry at him for a second, but then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  
“Okay, I’m calm. Now you better tell me every fucking detail or I swear I will end you,” Dana smiled at him for emphasis.

“Alright, alright. We went to Erika’s and we had coffee and we talked. Then we went back to school. That’s it, that’s all that happened.” Dana looked sideways at Cecil, before shaking her head at the road.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true—“

“Cecil, you are a terrible liar. For three years, you haven’t been able to shut up about Perfect Carlos with his perfect hair and his perfect smile, and now you don’t have anything to say about the fact that he asked you out on a date?” Cecil blushed, replaying the memory of Carlos’ lips against his own. Dana noticed instantly.  
“Oh my god, he did not,” she said. “He totally kissed you!”

Cecil tried to object, but Dana knew Cecil better than anyone. She could tell if he was lying a mile away. “He did! This is huge! Three years of crushing on him and after one date he kisses you! What was it like?”

“It was short; it wasn’t a makeout or anything. But Dana, it was perfect.” Cecil stopped trying to hide his smile.

“I never saw this coming, not in a million years. You’ve been crushing on him, and maybe this whole time, he’s been crushing on you!”

Cecil hadn’t thought about that. He’d assumed Carlos had never even known he was alive, let alone like him. But the way Carlos had asked him out so suddenly, kissed him so gently, maybe he’d liked Cecil just as much as Cecil liked him.

“When are you going to see him again?” Dana asked, missing Carlos’ driveway so she’d have more time to quiz him.

“I don’t know,” Cecil admitted. “He said he’d call me. But if he does that stupid ‘Three Day Rule,’ I might just scream.” 

“You have to let us know if he calls you. Immediately, understand?” Dana finally pulled into his driveway.

“Understood, Captain,” Cecil said, climbing out of her car.

“Oh, Cecil!” Dana called. “Speaking of ‘us,’ can I tell Maureen?”

“Sure,” Cecil said. “She’ll flip, she’ll end up calling to quiz me anyway. At least she’ll be over the shell shock by then.”

Cecil waved to Dana, and finally let his smile explode once he was safely inside his house.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you can catch all of my various fandom references throughout these chapters, I applaud you. Also, I'm sorry for that last one.

* * *

Cecil, being the mature eighteen year old that he was, decided to ignore his homework and do the only thing that he knew could properly distract him until Carlos called. He threw his backpack down next to his bed, grabbed his speakers, and blasted music in his living room.

“ _I GOT MY MOON BOOTS ON_ ,” he sang, sliding across the wooden floors in his socks. “ _AND I’M A MAN ON A MISSION! I BUILT A ROCKET TO THE SKY, GONNA SAY GOODBYE, GONNA CUT OFF ALL TRANSMISSION, YEAH._ ”

Cecil had to stop in the middle of making himself a sandwich to drop to his knees, screaming his favorite part of Bohemian Rhapsody to the ceiling.

“ _MAMAAAA OOOOOOOOO, DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE YOU CRY, IF I’M NOT BACK AGAIN THIS TIME TOMORROW, CARRY ON, CARRY OOOON, CAUSE NOTHING REALLY MATTERSSSSS._ ” He then neglected his food, getting so wrapped up in Queen that when the song finally ended, he dropped to the floor from exhaustion.

Cecil realized that he probably looked like a fool, but he was so high on thinking of Carlos, he honestly couldn’t have cared less. Carlos had talked to him, hadn’t thought he was weird when he talked about Night Vale, and _still_ wanted to talk to him again. For Cecil, it was heaven.

During dinner, his parents didn’t even notice that Cecil had his phone on his knee, checking it constantly, just in case Carlos called. It wasn’t that weird; Cecil’s parents hardly ever noticed him as it was. Cecil practically lived on his own, his parents ignored him so much. It wasn’t that they didn’t love Cecil, they were just so wrapped up in their jobs—his mother was the owner of a company that produced mirrors, his dad helped her manage the bank accounts for it—that they never had time to really sit down and talk to their son.

Cecil left the table early, wished his parents goodnight, and escaped to his room.

 At 9:37, Cecil had given up hope. Carlos wasn’t going to call, and that was alright. Sometimes, people just didn’t call. Cecil could live with that.

He was lying to himself, but he allowed it to work for the moment.

At 10:13, his phone rang. Cecil nearly jumped out of his skin, hands shaking as he answered.

“Helloo?” Cecil asked, like he _hadn’t_ just spent the last three hours memorizing Carlos’ perfect phone number.

“Cecil, it’s Carlos,” came the voice on the other end. Cecil felt his heart melt at the way Carlos said his name, and wondered if he would ever get used to the way it sounded. “Sorry I’m calling so late; I got distracted by biology homework and didn’t even notice the time.”

“It’s no problem, I was super busy this afternoon.” Cecil leaned back against the headboard of his bed, closing his eyes to better hear Carlos.

“So listen, thanks for letting me take you out for coffee. I had a ton of fun.”

“Me too,” Cecil replied. There was a pause.

“Tell me about Night Vale,” Carlos said.

“I thought you wanted to read it?”

“I do,” Carlos replied.  “You just sound so different when you talk about it—I don’t know how to describe it, really. Proud. Confident. You’ve obviously put so much love into it. Just tell me non-spoilery things.”

Cecil blushed furiously as Carlos talked about him, and he was grateful for the phone between them. “Like what?” he asked, trying to sound collected.

“How did you come up with it?”

 _Oh._ Cecil could answer that.

“Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“The long one, definitely. Leave nothing out.” Cecil smiled, glancing around at his room.

To say that Cecil had put a lot of love into Night Vale was an understatement. His walls were painted in a deep purple, which he’d long ago decided was the town’s signature color. On top of the purple, Cecil had hand painted Night Vale’s skyline in black, wrapping around his room like a blanket. Behind his bed, Cecil had painted the town’s radio tower. It was the tallest building of them all, minus the invisible clock tower outlined in faint dashes by his dresser, and made Cecil feel _important_. Like the town looked up to him, somehow.

And after he’d finished painting, he’d taped papers up.

“Until freshman year,” Cecil began, “Night Vale was my safe spot. I was…bullied, I guess, as a kid. So I created this town, this place, where I could go and no one could be mean to me. But it was only ever in my head. Then, in freshman year, I really dove into it. I started writing things down, drawing, anything to make it seem more real.”

“What changed?” Carlos asked, his voice soft. Cecil heard him clear his throat. “In freshman year, I mean.”

_You. The knowledge that you would never, could never, like me. The freak. The weird kid. Then the depression, the need for something I loved to be physical, real. But, oh, Carlos, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t even know me; you couldn’t have known how I felt._

“I don’t know,” Cecil said. His eyes lingered on a small sheet of paper, ripped from the bottom of a test. “I even wrote Night Vale an anthem. My obsession with this story is quite scary, actually. It goes:

‘ _You’re a void  
_ _You’re a void_  
Full of stars   
Yeah you’re a void   
You’re a void   
Full of stars   
And in the void   
In the void   
Full of stars   
I think I saw you…’”

Cecil heard Carlos laughing softly on the other end of the line.

“What?” Cecil asked, his voice sounding angrier than he’d intended.

“No, it’s just…isn’t that a Coldplay song?” Cecil could hear the smile in his words.

“Of course you know Coldplay.” Cecil let his breath out, allowing a smile to rest there. “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you?”

Cecil had only read the lyrics, but Carlos started humming them, getting used to the changes from the original song—which wasn’t much, if Cecil thought about it.

“I like it,” Carlos decided.

Cecil’s face erupted in blush. “Thanks,” was all he could manage to say, shyly.

They talked for hours. Maureen called at midnight, but Carlos was in the middle of explaining his most recent experiment, and Cecil _really_ didn’t want to stop him. When the clock hit two am, neither of them noticed.

As Dana drove him to school the next day, Cecil couldn’t help but wonder if he and Carlos were…different, now. Would Carlos meet him between classes and ramble about science while they walked? What if he _kissed Cecil at school?_ Cecil covered his face to hide the blush that was rising on his cheeks.

“Cecil!” Dana shouted suddenly, and Cecil nearly hit his head on the window in his jump.

“ _W-what?”_

“Were you even listening to me?” Dana asked.

“Umm…” Cecil tried to remember what she’d been talking about, but all he could think of was the anticipation of seeing Carlos later. _If_ he saw Carlos later.

“I was asking you if Carlos ever called! But judging by your silence, I’d say he did.”

Cecil couldn’t help it this time. The words just spilled out of him—curse his inability to keep anything at all to himself. And so, he told Dana everything. He described Carlos’ perfect voice in way more detail than Dana wanted, and closed his eyes to better remember the way it sounded when he said Cecil’s name. He talked about Carlos’ interest in Night Vale, and how Cecil was taking him a copy of it on his flash drive today so he could read it. He even went back and relived their entire coffee date, remembering every perfect smile and how Carlos had a tendency to run his fingers through his hair when he talked about science.

When he finally opened his eyes, they were parked at the school. Dana was staring at him, her mouth hanging open. She had her phone in her hand, pointed towards Cecil.

“You called Maureen?” Cecil asked, reading the screen.

“Give me a moment,” Maureen’s voice said. Her voice was thick, and Cecil heard her sniff.

“Are you… _crying?_ ” Cecil gasped. He realized that there were tears in Dana’s eyes, too. “ _Dana?_ Are you guys okay?”

“That was just…” Dana started, a heavy blush covering her face. “Holy _shit_.”

“That was the most beautiful think I’ve ever heard you say, Cecil,” Maureen said. “If I had a boyfriend that spoke about me like that… _wow_. I have to go; my makeup is probably a mess. I can’t go to class like this.” The phone clicked as Maureen hung up.

“Was it that bad?” Cecil asked Dana slowly.

“Are you kidding? _Never_ stop talking about Carlos. _Ever._ ” Dana took a deep breath, before climbing out of the car. “This is so much better than any book I’ve ever read.”

Cecil suffered through his first classes, anxiety wearing down on him with every passing minute. Instead of slipping through the halls like usual, he followed Dana’s slow pace, looking for Carlos in the crowd.

In the middle of his second class, his phone buzzed. Cecil pulled it out, honestly not caring if he was caught.

**1 new message: Carlos**

**Meet me by the gym shed during lunch for some Firefly  :)**

Cecil responded quickly. He didn’t pay attention at all for the rest of class.

**Deal!**

When the lunch bell rang, Cecil practically ran for the door.

“Hey, Cecil!” a voice called as Cecil slipped past him. _Not now, Steve Carlsberg_. Cecil thought, rolling his eyes. _I’m on my way to meet my super hot scientist boyfriend._

Cecil smiled even bigger than he already was.

 _Boyfriend._ Cecil had a boyfriend.

Lunch was going to be _amazing._

When he got to the gym shed, Carlos was already there, sitting against it. Cecil’s heart stopped. Carlos was sitting on a fucking _blanket._ He was wearing a button-up shirt tucked into black pants, suspenders, and a bow tie. Cecil was pretty sure that being that cute was illegal in some states.

“Hey, Cecil,” Carlos said, noticing him. “Come on, sit down.” He grinned, patting the ground next to him. Cecil couldn’t move fast enough.

“Hi, Carlos,” Cecil said, too nervous to say anything else.

“Did you bring lunch?” Carlos asked.

 _Shit._ “Um, no, I didn’t. I was kind of in a rush to get here, and I forgot to go to the cafeteria…” Cecil felt the blood rush to his face. But then Carlos only nodded with a smile, so easy and relaxed, and Cecil started to feel himself relax too. Carlos wouldn’t judge him. Carlos wouldn’t hurt him.

“That’s okay,” Carlos said, pulling out his own lunch. “You can share mine.”

“Oh my god, really?” Cecil managed to stutter. Carlos handed him half a sandwich, cut into triangles, and opened a can of Pepsi.

Carlos took a sip, and handed the drink towards Cecil. “Do you want some?” he asked.

“Are you sure? You’re not worried about germs or anything?” _Cecil calm the fuck down right this instant he wouldn’t have offered it if he was worried about germs or—_

Carlos kissed him. It was hesitant, like he was afraid Cecil would pull away.

“Just take the drink, Cecil,” Carlos said, definitely blushing. Cecil took it from him, and his hands were surprisingly steady.

It turned out, Carlos was a loud show watcher. Without headphones in, he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he sang along to the theme song.

“Dick move, Mal,” he mumbled whenever Mal was rude to Kaylee. He ran his fingers through his hair when the show got exciting, and tried to predict what would happen next. “Oh, he’s so only there to make Inara upset.”

Cecil hardly watched the episode. Carlos’ reactions were more entertaining, anyway.

“Hey!” a voice said, startling the both of them. A teacher strode towards them, looking angry and embarrassed that she had caught them in what was obviously not a platonic situation. “You kids know you’re not supposed to be on the sports fields during lunch!”

Carlos climbed to his feet, and Cecil followed.

“Detention, after school, today. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Carlos said. Cecil could only nod; his face felt like it was on fire. The teacher looked uncomfortable, shifting on her feet.

“Well, don’t let me catch you again,” she said. “Get back to the cafeteria, or I’ll have to make you spend the rest of lunch in the principal’s office!”

Carlos nodded. The teacher watched them pick up their stuff, Carlos stuffing the blanket back into his backpack, Cecil awkwardly trying to help him.

“Get out of here,” the teacher said again, trying and failing to sound intimidating.

Carlos looked at her, raised his eyebrows, and slipped his fingers between Cecil’s. Without another word, he strode past the teacher and pulled Cecil towards the cafeteria.

Cecil’s head was spinning. He could feel his hand in Carlos’, but that couldn’t possibly be happening because hand holding didn’t feel this _amazing._

“I’m sorry,” Carlos said, breaking the silence. “About detention, I mean.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t have anything to do this afternoon anyway,” Cecil replied, smiling. Carlos smiled back, and slowed his steps down.

“Um, I don’t really know where we’re going,” he admitted, rubbing his earring with his free hand. “Usually I just hang out by the shed…”

Something in Cecil’s stomach dropped. Why didn’t Carlos sit with his friends? Cecil had certainly seen him around the school, hanging out and laughing with his fellow scientists. _Surely_ Cecil had seen him talking to someone else…ever...

Carlos rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

 _Oh_.

Cecil squeezed Carlos’ hand, smiling despite the pain he felt knowing Carlos was alone at school. “We can sit with my friends, if you want.” Carlos nodded, genuinely smiling, and Cecil led him towards the cafeteria.

Maureen’s face when they walked through the doors was priceless. Carlos was still holding Cecil’s hand, and he looked nervous in the crowded room. Cecil gave him a reassuring smile, and he waved to Maureen. He realized then that he’d forgotten to tell her or Dana where he was, but Cecil assumed that by the point, they’d figured it out.

As they walked towards the back of the cafeteria, Cecil mouthed _be cool_ at Dana. She rolled her eyes, but nodded discreetly anyway.

“Carlos, this is Dana and Maureen,” Cecil said as they sat down across from the girls. “Dana and Maureen…this is Carlos.”

Dana blushed slightly, leaning over to shake Carlos’ hand. “Hi, Carlos, it’s great to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Carlos replied, and Dana blushed harder.

Maureen only waved instead of shaking his hand, which Cecil could tell Carlos was grateful for. “Welcome to our table. You’re lucky you got in on such short notice, though. We usually have people _begging_ to sit with us.”

Carlos laughed, visibly relaxing with every passing second. “I appreciate you being able to squeeze me into your schedule.”

“So, Carlos, tell us a little about yourself,” Dana said. “What do you like to do?”

Before Carlos could speak, Cecil was answering. “Carlos is a scientist,” he said proudly. Carlos blushed, shaking his head.

“I want to be a scientist,” he corrected. “Right now I’m just hoping to pass my exams.” Cecil rolled his eyes, leaning a little on him.

“What kind of science do you like?” Maureen asked. Carlos sat up straighter—the girls were putting him in his comfort zone.

“I love all kinds of science,” he said, smiling. “Biology, chemistry, anatomy, all of it. It’s going to be so hard to pick just one to major in. I wish I could just major in science.”

“That’s so cool. I’m taking bio right now but I don’t understand a word of it. Maybe you could help me out sometime,” Dana said.

“I’d love to, biology is amazing.” Dana and Maureen quizzed Carlos for the rest of lunch, and by the time the bell rang, Carlos was considerably calmer.

“Do you know where the detention room is?” he asked Cecil outside of his next class. Cecil shook his head, and Carlos smiled. “Alright then, meet me by the library after the last bell and I’ll walk with you.”

“You know where it is?” Cecil asked.

“This may not be the first time I’ve been caught out there during lunch,” Carlos said, smiling. “Detention’s no big deal, okay?”

Cecil grinned back. “Okay.” Carlos kissed Cecil gently on his forehead, and they each went to class.

Dana and Maureen all but attacked him during their last class of the day. They sat in the back of the room, whispering fiercely at him the entire time.

“You two are adorable I actually can’t take it.”

“Oh my god you were so right, his voice is perfect.”

“I can’t believe you two got detention together.”

“You have to tell us what happens.”

They whispered over each other as they recalled bits and pieces of their ten minutes of lunch with Carlos. Cecil couldn’t stop smiling.

When the final bell finally rang, Cecil decided that he was the only person in history to ever be excited for detention. He headed for the library, where Carlos was already waiting for him.

“Ready?” Carlos asked. Cecil nodded, taking Carlos’ hand. “Allons-y, then.”

Detention was a joke. There were five people there total, spread out in one of the Spanish classrooms. The supervisor, a drunk custodian, told them that they were to remain completely quiet until they were allowed to leave at five, an hour and a half away. Then he left, and the kids were alone.

“Not to say I told you so,” Carlos said as they pulled chairs into the back corner of the room, “but I told you so.”

“This is detention? This is just like going home. We have our phones, homework, and no teachers.”

Carlos laughed, leaning in towards Cecil. “Last time I was here, we played ping pong. The table’s gone though, so that sucks. I don’t know why they put us in detention in a room with a ping pong table in the teacher’s office.”

“How many teachers _actually_ have ping pong tables in their offices?” Cecil asked, laughing. “Oh, I forgot.” He reached into his backpack, pulling out a blue flash drive.

“It’s a copy of Night Vale. You said you wanted to read it, so…” Cecil trailed off, handing the drive to Carlos. “You can borrow the flash drive; it’s just one I found in a drawer.”

Carlos grinned, looking around the room. “Can I read it now? All I need’s a computer—there’s one!” He stood, but Cecil grabbed his hand.

“No!” he said. “I mean, not right now. I don’t want to see your first reactions to it. If that’s okay.” Carlos sat back down, tucking the drive inside his pocket.

“Alright, Cecil, I’ll read it at home. I don’t want to, but I will.”

Cecil ducked his head, muttering a ‘thanks.’ It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Carlos’ reactions to Night Vale, he just didn’t want to see Carlos _hate_ it.

“Hey, Cecil,” Carlos said, making Cecil look at him. “I don’t think we ever finished that episode of Firefly, if you wanted.”

“Alright, but you’re not allowed to make comments every thirty seconds. There are other people in the room, you know.”

“What? I do _not_ make comments.”

 _“_ You so do! You can’t get through one scene without commenting on something!” They argued for a good five minutes before they came to an agreement. Carlos could talk—which he still refused to acknowledge that he did—if they weren’t in the main classroom where the other—judgmental—students could hear him.

And that’s how Cecil and Carlos came to sit on the floor of the teacher’s dark office, watching Firefly together. Cecil leaned over during one of the more exciting scenes and rested his head on Carlos’ shoulder.

He didn’t think Carlos noticed.

When they were released at five, Carlos led Cecil to his car, silently offering a ride, and Cecil silently accepted.

“Where to?” Carlos asked.

“What?” Cecil replied, confused. “Oh, right. Sorry, I’m not used to having to give directions. Do you know where Desert Flower is?”

“I do, actually,” Carlos said. “Good, that was easy.”

Cecil bit his lip, wondering what he should say. He was never very good at small talk. _So, how about that weather we’ve been having_ was probably the only thing on Earth that he truly hated. Luckily, Carlos seemed to love small talk, or maybe just talking to Cecil in general, and jumped into a story about how his mother would kill him when he got home.

“She hates when I get detention,” he explained. “Says it’s bad for my record, or something. I’ve got straight A’s in all my classes; colleges aren’t going to turn me away because I got detention a couple of times. But she doesn’t see it that way. I could be worse, though. I could be my brother, Marco. He’s always half way into trouble, even when he’s sleeping.”

Cecil listened gladly, grateful that Carlos wasn’t asking him about his own family. That wasn’t something he was ready to tell Carlos about.

Carlos kissed him after they pulled into Cecil’s driveway. Not ten minutes later, Cecil got a text from Carlos.

**Hey**

**Hey** , Cecil replied.

**What’s up?**

**Didn’t I just see you like 10 minutes ago?**

**Yeah, but I wasn’t done talking to you. There’s a difference.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Ah, the honeymoon phase. Makeouts to be had, so stay tuned!
> 
> Also, if you like what I'm doing and you want to see more of it, follow me on Twitter @ragequitwriting for updates or if you want to discuss the fic. That would be cool of you.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...oops?  
> Please note the rating and tag changes, this chapter got away from me. But if you're uncomfortable with gay relationships, you're kinda in the wrong place?
> 
> AND! I'm now tracking this fic with the tag "fic: void" like the self obsessed loser that I am.

**I’m reading Night Vale :)**

Cecil usually didn’t get nervous when people read his work. Only a handful of people had ever seen it, of course—Dana, Maureen, a hundred or so people online—but this was different. This was _Carlos_. His fingers were shaking as he responded.

**Oh?**

**This place is insane.** Then, **I see you wrote yourself into it.**

Oh, Carlos had no idea. Cecil wasn’t just in Night Vale, he _was_ Night Vale. He was, quite literally, the voice of the city.

**Cecil, I never knew you loved public speaking so much.**

**Oh, shut the hell up and read it.**

**Such language!**

Cecil laughed. **You have no idea.**

Carlos didn’t respond after that, which was actually helpful. Cecil had a research paper to write, something about reptiles, and he hadn’t been paying much attention in bio as he should have. His notes were sloppy at best, and it was painfully obvious when Cecil had stopped listening.

He pulled out his textbook and laptop, and began to write.

As it turned out, Cecil never even heard his parents call him down for dinner. Or, maybe they just hadn’t. But by the time Cecil tore his eyes away from his laptop, eyes straining, it was nearly eleven. He groaned when he realized, glancing at the rubric, that his paper had to be twice as long as it currently was.

He cheered up considerably when he looked at his phone.

**I’m laughing so hard at Steve Carlsberg.**  
 **Wait**  
 **Isn’t there a Steve Carlsberg at school?**  
 **Holy shit, is everyone at school in this?**

And, half an hour later, **  
Am I in here?**

Cecil’s heart raced. Carlos wasn’t in it—like Cecil would ever let him read Night Vale if he’d written _beautiful, perfect Carlos_ into his novel. And Cecil hadn’t put _everyone_ in it—just the memorable people. There were some people Cecil did _not_ want in his perfect city.

Carlos’ texts continued.

**Wait that sounded angry.**  
 **I just meant I’d love it if I was actually able to visit Night Vale. It has to be the most scientifically interesting community in the country.**  
 **I’d just want to study it, is all.**  
 **Sorry, I’m rambling. I’ll just read it.**

The thought hit Cecil in the stomach like a train. For a while now, Cecil had felt there was something missing from Night Vale. It wasn’t anything _bad_ , but he had this feeling in the back of his mind that told him there was something else Night Vale needed. And now, he knew what it was.

 _Carlos_.

Cecil realized that as weird as he was, as weird as Night Vale was, it didn’t mean anything unless there was someone significantly less weird to contrast against it.

How could you appreciate the dark without the light?

Before he knew what he was doing, Cecil had dialed Carlos’ number and put the phone to his ear. He listened to it ring…and ring… _and ring…_

“Hey, Cecil,” came Carlos’ voice.

“Carlos! Sorry I didn’t text back; I was writing this essay for bio and got a little distracted by it.”

“No problem. Listen, Cecil, it’s amazing. Honestly, it really is. I’m sorry if my texts came across upset or anything; I was reading and not really thinking about word choice. But you could get this published—and you should. I mean, I’m only halfway through it—the underground city was just discovered to actually be made up of tiny people—but—“

“I’m writing you in,” Cecil blurted out. He held his breath, waiting for Carlos to respond. “Into Night Vale, I mean.”

“Really?” Carlos asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” Cecil said. He felt the words on the tip of his tongue, and he couldn’t stop them from spilling out. “I’ve been thinking for a while that it was missing something, and I realized what it was. It was you. Night Vale needs someone that doesn’t understand it—that _wants_ to understand it. In a place like Night Vale…” Cecil took a deep breath, searching for the words he wanted.

“In a place like Night Vale, there needs to be someone to cast some light into all its darkness.”

Carlos was quiet for a minute, and Cecil started fearing he’d said something wrong. But then Carlos’ voice came drifting through the phone, soft and low, wrapping around Cecil like a physical blanket.

“Like our desert sun,” he said. Cecil could hear the smile—and the blush—in his voice.

“Like our desert sun,” Cecil agreed.

As the weeks passed, Cecil and Carlos were practically inseparable. Carlos replaced Dana as Cecil’s rides to and from school, which Dana didn’t mind at all since she lived on the other side of town. They talked almost constantly, and when they couldn’t talk, they texted.

Cecil had never been clingy in relationships before. He’d always appreciated the value of separation, and expected the same from his—few and far between—boyfriends. But with Carlos, Cecil wanted to know everything. Not to keep track of him, but because Cecil desperately wanted to know Carlos inside and out. It shocked him, honestly.

“I’m going to kill Mr. Leroy one of these days,” Maureen huffed one day as they walked to lunch.

“Please,” Cecil replied, rolling his eyes. “You couldn’t hurt a fly.”

“I could do it! I have, like, a PhD in horribleness.”

“Right,” Cecil said, smiling. “Sure.”

Dana eyed Cecil, and he knew there was no hiding anything from her.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked.

“My thoughts are worth a whole lot more than a penny.” It was supposed to be a joke, but Cecil wasn’t his normal self, and it fell flat.

“Where’s the beau?” Dana asked after a minute.

“He was supposed to meet me after class, but he never showed,” Cecil said, failing to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Something must have come up, I guess.”

“Don’t look so depressed,” Maureen said, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “You look worse than Dana when she got dumped by Kevin.”

“That wasn’t even his name!” Dana protested.

“Oh, like you can remember!” Maureen laughed. “It was, like, two thousand years ago.”

“It was eighth grade!”

Just then, Carlos rounded the corner, looking anything but his normal calm. He skidded to a halt just in front of the group, still wearing a wrinkled school lab coat.

“I am _so_ sorry, Cecil,” he said. It was obvious from his breathing that he’d been running—had he been so afraid that Cecil would be mad that he’d run all the way from the science labs? “The lab ran over; I had to finish an experiment. I came as soon as I could.”

“It’s okay, honestly,” Cecil replied. He couldn’t help but smile at the way the lab coat fell off one shoulder; it was easily two sizes too big for him.

“Let me make it up to you,” Carlos begged, taking Cecil’s hands. He began to pull Cecil forward, back the way Carlos had come.

Cecil rolled his eyes. Carlos was such a drama queen sometimes. “There’s nothing to make up to me.”

“Let me make it up to you anyway.” Carlos grinned, and Cecil couldn’t say no when Carlos asked _so nicely._

Carlos took them to their favorite spot of the school—a nook cut out of the back of the English building. Cecil was pretty sure it was meant for a giant trash can or something, but it was private, and relatively small, and it was perfect.

“I’m sorry I was late,” Carlos smiled, pulling Cecil into the nook. He turned them around, pushing Cecil’s back against the brick wall of the building.

“I’m not,” Cecil replied. “I quite enjoy your apologies.”

Even though he expected it, he still gasped when Carlos kissed him, desperately clinging to Cecil like he was air. With a step, Carlos’ thigh was pressing against Cecil, and he moaned into the kiss. Carlos’ hands played with the hem of Cecil’s shirt, his fingers tracing the v of Cecil’s hips that disappeared beneath his jeans.

“You’re going to have to get out of that fucking lab coat,” Cecil said, trailing his tongue down to where the collar met dark skin.

“You love it,” Carlos teased, but the effect was lost in the gasp of his voice. Cecil hummed his reply against his throat, a small smile playing on his lips.

Carlos’ hands ran up Cecil’s chest, pinching his nipples. Cecil had to bite his lip to keep from making noise; keeping quiet was _not_ his specialty. He forced himself to focus, trying to pull Carlos’ shirt untucked from his pants—curse his stupid suspenders and bow tie.

His hands were suddenly pulled from his task, and Carlos held them up between their chests.

“Not today,” Carlos fucking _growled_ , his lips inches from Cecil’s. “This is my apology; I’m taking care of _you_.”

He kissed Cecil, his tongue soothing Cecil’s lips, swollen from biting them. Cecil desperately wanted to touch Carlos, but he settled for running his fingers through Carlos’ hair. Carlos’ thigh pressed harder against him, immobilizing Cecil’s hips and making him gasp into Carlos’ mouth.

Carlos was everywhere; grinding his thigh into Cecil’s erection while his hands explored, dipping down the back of Cecil’s jeans little by little, his mouth nipping and soothing Cecil’s neck.

“Fuck,” Cecil whimpered as Carlos groped his ass. “Please, Carlos—ah—touch me.” Carlos drifted his hands to Cecil’s front, ghosting his fingers over the denim. He was teasing him, touching him everywhere but where he so needed it. Fingers wandered over his inner thighs, his stomach, and finally, _finally_ , Carlos unbuttoned Cecil’s jeans.

Cecil moaned when Carlos slid his pants and boxers down just enough and stroked, and immediately had a hand that wasn’t busy over his mouth.

“Shh,” Carlos commanded. “You want to get caught?” But even as he said it, he stroked Cecil, letting his thumb slide over the head.

Carlos leaned in, whispering in Cecil’s ear as he held his mouth and dick. “I wish I didn’t have to keep you quiet so I could use both hands.” The hand stroking him sped up, pulling Cecil towards the edge. He let his head lean back against the brick, his eyes closing.

“Come for me,” Carlos whispered, and that was it. The hand left his mouth, and Cecil had to bite his own wrist to keep from screaming as he came, hot and blinding, while Carlos stroked him through his orgasm.

When the world returned to him, Cecil realized that Carlos had managed to catch everything in his lab coat, which he wiped Cecil down with and then balled up.

“The school washes all the lab coats at the end of the day,” Carlos smiled, kissing Cecil lightly, happily. “Something about chemicals or contamination.”

Cecil laughed against Carlos’ lips, but frowned when he noticed Carlos’ own untouched erection. He reached to take care of it, but Carlos shook his head.

“This was about you,” he said, smirking. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you get me off?”

“If this is about taking care of me, I’m not going to be happy until you’re taken care of too,” Cecil said. He turned them around, so that Carlos was against the brick, and gave him one last kiss before dropping to his knees and unzipping Carlos’ pants.

Carlos started to say something smartass, but Cecil ran his tongue along his length and whatever he was going to say turned into a gasp. His hands flew to Cecil’s hair as Cecil flicked the head with his tongue and, without warning, took Carlos as far as he could.

“ _Shit_ ,” Carlos breathed, pulling on Cecil’s hair. His hips bucked, and Cecil held them against the wall to keep him steady. Cecil hummed, hollowing his cheeks, and Carlos’ fingers dug into his scalp as he came. Cecil swallowed it down, zipping Carlos up and kissing him on the nose.

“You stink,” he smiled against Carlos.

“It’s your own fault,” Carlos replied. He kissed Cecil lazily. “So am I forgiven?”

“I suppose so, even though you didn’t do anything that needed an apology.”

“Still,” Carlos mused. “I like to hear you say it.”

Cecil laughed, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, Carlos, you’re forgiven. Can we eat now?”

“Fine, we can eat.” He smiled as Cecil took his hand, pulling him back towards the cafeteria. “Oh, wait. I have to throw this lab coat in the washer before the next class starts. _Someone_ got jizz all over it.”

“Who did that?” Cecil asked, following Carlos towards the labs. “ _Carlos_ , are you cheating on me?”

“Would it help if I apologized?”

Cecil hit him, rolling his eyes as Carlos squeezed his hand. “Believe it or not, it wouldn’t.”

“I don’t really believe you,” Carlos teased. He bumped Cecil’s hip with his own, and Cecil pretended to be upset, crossing his arms and pouting.

Sneaking into the science building wasn’t hard. Everyone was at lunch, and they slipped in without being seen. The hard part was discovering that the washroom was locked. Carlos’ face as he fought with the door sent Cecil into a laughing fit, which earned him a smack on the shoulder.

“How are we going to get in there?” Carlos demanded.

“Relax,” Cecil said, wiping tears from his eyes. “There’s probably a key in the teacher’s desk, we just have to look for it.”

“Right, okay.” Carlos looked visibly better having a game plan, and after a moment of rummaging around in the front desk, he held a key triumphantly in the air.

“You’re such a wimp,” Cecil declared as Carlos approached. “Mr. Cool, Mr. Right, Mr. Know-It-All, but _one little door_ stands in your way, and you panic.”

“Shut up,” Carlos told him, unlocking the door with a click. “I’m Iron Man.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Are you really going to argue this now?” Carlos asked, rolling his eyes. Cecil laughed, wrapping his arms around him. The filthy lab coat was thrown in the wash, and after Carlos made Cecil wash his hands, they walked together to lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's references come inspired by a fic I just finished called Keep Your Head Up by MildlyMoonstruck--if you're an Attack on Titan fan I would totally recommend it!
> 
> Also, if you like what I'm doing and you want to see more of it, follow my twitter @ragequitwriting to do that. I'd love to talk about the fic, upcoming stuff, give you personal recommendations, and just get to know you!  
> Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut was fun, but yay, plot!

It was strange how a day that had been going so well could crash so quickly. When Cecil got home, he’d been feeling studious enough to get his homework done. The essays came smoothly, the bio memorization stuck—Cecil was on top of the world.

Shit hit the fan at dinner.

His father spoke to him, for once. He seemed to actually remember that he had a son, and Cecil found himself smiling at being acknowledged before—

“So, have you decided what your major is going to be yet?”

Of course. It was always going to come down to this.

“I’m still trying to decide,” Cecil mumbled at his food. _Liar. You’ve known what you want to do since the eighth grade._ Mr. Palmer cleared his throat, frowning at his dinner.

“Well, it’s just that you need to get going on your applications. The deadline is fast approaching, and you need to narrow your choice down. Math or engineering, I’d suggest. Or business, that’d be a fine choice.”

Cecil bit his tongue, knowing full well what would happen if he spoke up. Unfortunately, he wasn’t about to be let off that easily.

“Cecil,” his mother chided. “Your father is trying to have a conversation with you. The least you can do is reply.”

“Um, those are good choices, dad.” Cecil’s voice was barely a whisper. He stared at his food, willing the voice to swallow him up before this went any further.

“Don’t give me that,” his father spat. “You don’t like my ideas? Let’s hear what _you_ think is the best way to spend your life.” _Spend_ Cecil’s life, like it was something as worthless as money. He tried to think of something— _anything_ —else to say, but the dreaded words came out anyway.

“I’ve been looking at the writing program at Radon Canyon University,” he whispered. The drop in his father’s face was deafening.

“ _Writing?_ ” he suddenly boomed. Both hands slammed onto the table, and Cecil would’ve jumped if he wasn’t frozen to his seat. “You want to throw your life away so you can jot down some nonsense in a notebook? No child of _mine_ is going to go to college for something as ridiculous as _writing_.”

Mrs. Palmer only stared at her son, her disappointment not verbal, but just as loud as her husband’s. Cecil could hear his father’s voice assaulting his ears, but the longer it went on, the less Cecil heard. It all bled together, creating a dull white noise that blocked his mind and made it impossible to think, like blasting music through headphones for too long. Cecil hadn’t ever dared to whisper what he really wanted to do out loud, but he’d heard all his father’s opinions before. Except, now it was real. Now, college applications loomed over them, and Mr. Palmer wasn’t about to let the topic go easily.

The lecture went on, and on, and Cecil stared at his lap, unable to find it in him to even fight back.

“Well?” the loud voice boomed. Dinner had long been forgotten, cold on their plates. “Say something!”

“You’re right,” Cecil mumbled. It was all he could think to say. His father huffed, violently slamming back in his chair. He shoved his fingers in his hair, shaking his head.

“If you’re not going to be serious about this, I’m done trying to convince you. Go to bed.” He dismissed Cecil with a flick of his hand, not even meeting his son’s eye. Cecil stood, numbly, and walked out.

With every step away from the dining room, the numbness sank away. His anger began bubbling in his stomach, and he swiped away the tears that stung his eyes. When he reached his room, he slammed the door so hard the house shook. It was a pathetic prize for taking the blows without a fight, but it was better than nothing.

The Night Vale work covering his walls stared at him, welcomed him into its strangeness and its acceptance.

And Cecil broke.

He threw a long forgotten notebook onto his bed, flipped to the next blank page, and began to write. He let the pen calm his shaking fingers, let the pages hold everything he couldn’t say out loud. Cecil wrote page after page of his mind, not even bothering to catch his tears before they mixed with ink. And when he’d written everything he wanted to scream to deaf ears, he turned the page, and kept going.

This time, Cecil wrote Night Vale. Just drabbles, nothing that would ever make it into the final product, but they calmed him down like nothing else could have. He wrote about Carlos investigating the numbers station down at WZZZ, Carlos calling Cecil at work for personal and non-personal reasons alike, Carlos meeting Khoshekh, the floating cat in the men’s bathroom. Carlos introducing superheroes to Steve Carlsberg and watching him freak out because the rest of the world can fly and what does that mean for Night Vale…

And as Cecil bled onto page after page, he felt himself relaxing until the anger faded. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and that made it worth it.

It wasn’t the last Cecil had heard of the college argument, but it was over for now. Deadlines were sitting mercilessly just around the river bend, and his father’s determination would only get stronger as the days ticked down, but so would Cecil’s.

Fuck what his parents thought. There was no way Cecil would sit calmly by while he got pushed into a dead end job, sitting at a desk day after damn day until he died of a heart attack or jumped off the roof of his building out of desperation.

Fuck that.

Cecil didn’t fall asleep until nearly four a.m., out of pure exhaustion more than actual desire to sleep. Still, two and a half hours was plenty—he’d survived on less. All he needed was a mug of coffee, and the day would go by quickly enough.

By ten, Cecil was dying. The two hours he’d been in class already felt like _years_ , and the next four hours until he could go home loomed ahead of him. Cecil felt like he was trying to swim across the ocean. He kept waiting to feel the water in his lungs, dragging him down.

“Okay,” Carlos said, throwing his tray down on the table. “What is it?”

“What’s what,” Cecil grumbled, placing his forehead on the table. He didn’t even want to _think_ about the germs that were probably crawling all over it. The entire cafeteria really needed a good Corps-style cleaning.

Carlos sat down right next to him, finding Cecil’s hand beneath the table.

“Don’t do that, Cecil. You’ve been upset all day—you didn’t even talk to me on the way to school this morning. I didn’t mention it because I thought it’d go away, but if anything, it’s gotten worse. So,” Carlos’ voice got quieter, sadder, and Cecil could tell he was leaning down, so he was whispering in his ear. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Cecil turned his head, and sure enough, Carlos had his cheek to the table, and was nose-to-nose with him. They probably looked ridiculous, but it was oddly comforting.

Carlos smiled sadly, hopefully awaiting Cecil’s answer. But although supported him—hell, maybe someday he could call it love—there was no point in dragging him down into this messed up situation. Cecil wasn’t about to watch this relationship, with the guy he’d liked for years, leave him because Cecil was a sad, pathetic loser who complained about everything.

He sighed. “It’s nothing, I’m just tired. Honestly.” The smile on Carlos’ face disappeared, and he sat up.

“Alright,” Carlos said. “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, I guess. I’m not going to force you or anything. But if you decide to trust me, I’ll listen. Whenever you need me, I’m here.”

“Carlos,” Cecil said, sitting up. “It’s not a trust thing, I swear. It was just a long day yesterday and I’m tired.”

“I just hate seeing you like this. I don’t know how to help.” Carlos leaned in towards Cecil, so Cecil couldn’t look away. He had to meet his eye. “Promise me you’re okay.”

“I promise.” It was pathetic.

Carlos nodded, pulling away from him. “Okay.” And then he left Cecil alone with his shit, with his life. He wasn’t angry, just disappointed, but Cecil found himself almost hoping he would be. Because he’d begun to realize that as much as you may love someone, sometimes not being with them is what’s best. For everyone.

The rest of the day was slow.

The bus was too loud, it made Cecil crazy. He told himself he just needed a nap, that if he could just get home, he could feel better. Sleep deprivation did that, right?

His phone woke him up much later, tangled in the sheets like a child. The too-bright screen made his eyes hurt, but once they adjusted, it said eleven at night. Even Coldplay sounded too loud in the darkness of his room. The phone continued to ring, and the icon next to Carlos’ name said _three missed calls_ in its condescending red font.

“Hello?” Cecil found himself answering.

“Cecil, finally,” Carlos breathed. “How are you?” His voice carried, echoing in the dark, but it was comforting.

“Fine,” Cecil mumbled. “I’m fine. Sorry about how I acted today.”

“I just want you to be happy. Please, Cecil, tell me what’s wrong?”

Cecil shook his head before remembering Carlos couldn’t see him through the line. Half of him wanted to let Carlos in, wanted to be helped, but Carlos didn’t deserve that. Still, half of him was exhausted, and didn’t want to keep fighting anymore.

“Cecil?”

And in those two syllables, everything holding Cecil back broke.

“I want to be a writer,” he said, wincing at the crack in his voice.

“What’s wrong with that? Your writing is amazing.” Cecil scoffed.

“Everything, apparently.”

“What happened?” Carlos repeated.

“I told my parents. About Radon Canyon. They were…less than pleased.” There was a fumbling on the other side of the line. Cecil could vaguely make out a _I’m busy, sorry_ , and a door closing softly.

“Did they yell at you?” Carlos asked eventually.

“I might as well have told them I wanted to join a circus or move to a desert otherworld and live amongst a masked army.”

Despite everything, Carlos laughed. “That’s oddly specific.”

“I think about it a lot.”

Carlos was quiet again. “So what did your parents say, exactly?”

“It was my dad, mostly. Mom just kind of stayed quiet and agreed with him. Honestly, I don’t remember much of it. Lots of _no son of mine’s_ and shit like that.” He tried desperately to keep his voice light, but it fell flat.

“That’s horrible,” Carlos said, almost to himself.

“I’m used to it,” Cecil replied, shrugging again. It occurred to him then that being used to something like that was one of the worst things he could be. “I mean, not _used_ to it, I just…knew they wouldn’t like it.”

“Don’t let it go,” Carlos told him. “Whatever you do, don’t give in to whatever they want you to do.”

“Business. That’s what they want.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Carlos spat, surprising him. “Writing is what you do, it’s what you _love_.”

“They just don’t see it like that.”

“Don’t give up on it, Cecil. Ever.”

“I won’t.”

Neither of them said anything after that, but it was a comfortable silence. Cecil considered telling Carlos about what he’d written earlier, about how he’d written Carlos into Night Vale, just like he said he would, but he decided it could wait. The moment didn’t need to be broken, and besides, Carlos would want to read them and Cecil hadn’t even bothered to read what he was writing. They might be complete crap. He’d have to edit them, and then he would tell Carlos. But for now, the space between them didn’t feel like it was there at all, and the silence was warm and wrapped around them like a blanket.

It was nice to have one person telling you to keep fighting, when the rest of the world said to quit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about my ridiculous updating schedule and making you all wait for this short ass chapter. Can you tell that college is on my mind? This may be the last update until November, because I need to be cracking down on the short stories I'm writing to get into a creative writing program (because apparently fanfiction is frowned upon by the outside world?)
> 
> We're finally getting into the big plot going on, which is fun. No Dana and Maureen this chapter, but I really needed to set up the plot and the dynamic, and as much as my favorite interns are good for the plot, they really didn't have any space in the dynamic between Cecil and Carlos. For that, I'm sorry, but it was necessary. And they'll definitely be huge supporters of Cecil the entire way.
> 
> This chapter really hit home for me, and this fic is helping me so much with encouraging me to continue trying for this writing program. Every hit, comment, or kudos means a lot to me, so thank you all so much.
> 
> Also, if you like what I'm doing and you want to talk to me about how nothing is real and how calculus is seriously the worst, follow my twitter @ragequitwriting to do...that. Thanks.


	5. Chapter 5

Cecil could hear Carlos coming a mile away, the bass pounding from his speakers into the morning. Carlos grinned as he pulled into Cecil’s driveway, and he rolled down the window.

“Get in, loser!” he shouted over the music. Cecil jumped in, rushing to turn down the music.

“What is this?” Cecil yelled. He was pretty certain his eardrums would never recover.

“My Chemical Romance, isn’t it great?”

“You’re going to wake up the entire neighborhood!” Carlos shook his head, leaning in to kiss Cecil quickly before putting the car in reverse.

“You need angry, this is angry music.” Carlos turned it up again. It was way too loud, a completely different sound than Cecil usually listened to, angry and pounding and…not complete crap.

“I didn’t know you listened to this kind of music,” Cecil shouted. Carlos shrugged.

“I listen to everything.”

It was as good an answer as anything. Cecil let the music hit him from every angle, beat him, bruise him, and suddenly it all collapsed into a piano solo and it felt like cool water on a burn. Perhaps he should ask to borrow the album.

 _Do or die, you’ll never make me  
_ _Because the world will never take my heart  
Go and try, you’ll never break me  
We want it all, we wanna play this part  
I won’t explain, or say I’m sorry  
I_ _'m unashamed, I’m gonna show my scars_  
Give a cheer for all the broken  
Listen here, because it’s who we are.

Yeah, Cecil could really get used to hearing that.

By the time they pulled into the school parking lot, Cecil’s head was throbbing pleasantly. Those weren’t words he thought would ever go together in a sentence, but hey. The music was still playing in his head as he slipped out of the car, the lyrics running themselves over and over in his mind.

Carlos stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around Cecil’s waist and tucking his head into his neck.

“You think you’ll be okay?” he mumbled against Cecil’s skin. “In class?”

“I’ll be fine,” Cecil assured him, running his fingers through Carlos’ perfect hair.

“Are you sure? Your parents gave you shit last night, no one would blame you if you needed a long weekend.”

“School is the only place I feel calm right now, actually.” Cecil pulled away just enough to make Carlos look him in the eyes, and he kissed Carlos gently. “I’ll see you at lunch, alright?” Carlos nodded. They kissed again, slowly, and with a sad smile Cecil went to class.

Dana found him right after first period, slipping her arm around his as they walked.

“So apparently there’s a new guy in our grade,” she said excitedly. “His name is…actually, I can’t remember what they said it was, but I saw him earlier. He’s wearing a tan jacket.”

“Right, so that narrows it down to just about everyone,” Cecil replied, gesturing to the hall. Why was tan even that popular? _Thank god for color_ , he thought, glancing over his own outfit and Dana’s bright blue hijab.

“What’s wrong? You usually get so excited over new students.”

“My parents asked about college last night,” Cecil told her, rolling his eyes.

“Oh my god, that again? How bad was it?”

“Pretty bad, but I talked to Carlos about it after so that helped.”

“Well, then I owe that guy a drink.” Dana looked at Cecil seriously. “He seems really good for you, Cecil.”

Cecil smiled. “I’m glad you guys like him. I don’t know what I’d do if he turned out to be an ass.”

“I’d kill him, that’s what would happen.” They walked in silence for a moment, slipping into class.

“Hey,” Dana said suddenly, pulling on Cecil’s arm as she jumped on her toes. “What if we all went to Maureen’s house tonight? You, me, Maureen, and Carlos?”

“Carlos too? Are you sure you and Maureen would be okay with that?”

“Duh! And Maureen and I still need to _really_ interview him anyway, so I can promise you that this party is one hundred percent selfish.”

Dana was convinced; this party was a thing that needed to happen and it needed to happen _now_. And actually, Cecil couldn’t wait. He really needed a night out of the house, away from his parents. Surrounded by people that wouldn’t try to change him or belittle him.

The plan was in motion. A text to Carlos came with a quick reply, and Maureen jumped on board immediately. If there was one thing Maureen loved to do, it was throw a party. They discussed details at lunch, and that was that.

The rest of the day flew by. Funny, how something could brighten your day just by being in the near future.

After school, Carlos dropped Cecil off at his house so they could both shower and pack pajamas before driving to Maureen’s at eight. Carlos had offered, hand over his heart with _complete_ selflessness, to conserve water and shower with Cecil, but Cecil had reminded him that they actually did have homework to do, and they couldn’t afford to waste time until after they got to Maureen’s.

Carlos still managed to get a make out in before Cecil got out of the car.

Before he sat down to try to get some work done, Cecil looked up the album Carlos had been playing earlier and let it run while he looked over some math. Why couldn’t he have found this music earlier? Cecil needed a good band that loved screaming _fuck you_ at society.

Cecil’s mom texted him at six to let him know she and Mr. Palmer would be home late—they were going out for drinks with friends. He sent her a reply saying he was going to Maureen’s, and that he didn’t know when he’d be home Saturday. Mrs. Palmer didn’t bother responding to that.

When the clock finally hit eight, Cecil nearly cried with relief. He just wanted to be with friends again. Carlos picked him up right on the dot, and on the drive to Maureen’s, Cecil sand along to My Chemical Romance like a pro.

“How do you know these lyrics all of a sudden?”

“I may have downloaded the album after school.”

“Congratulations,” Carlos said, reaching over and squeezing Cecil’s hand.

“For what?”

Carlos made a rainbow with his hands, driving with his knees as he said, “For broadening your musical horizon.”

Dana met them at the door, dressed in pajamas, her hijab missing from her head.

“Oh,” Carlos said when he saw her. He was suddenly uncomfortable, like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to see. “Don’t you have to wear your hijab all the time?”

“Technically, I should be wearing it around you, but mostly I wear it to deter sexual attraction towards me and, um, I don’t think I have to worry about you hitting on me.”

Carlos laughed. “No, no you don’t.”

“You’ll find I’m a terrible Muslim, really. My grandparents would have a heart attack if they saw me. Maureen’s in the living room, I’m going to put a pizza in the oven.”

“In here, boys!” Maureen called. “I’m about to start a game of Super Smash Bros!” Carlos grinned at Cecil and raced to find a controller.

Maureen’s house was, in a word, amazing. Her parents were filthy rich and almost never home, and they trusted Maureen completely. That meant she could have parties whenever she wanted, and they _always_ took advantage of every luxury that came with being as rich as Maureen was.

“I’ve got Sheik!” Carlos yelled, grabbing a spot on Maureen’s couch.

“Please, Sheik couldn’t kill Jigglypuff. Ike, on the other hand…”

“The both of you, shut up,” Cecil cut in, grabbing a controller. “Link would eat them both for breakfast.”

“I’ve got Pit!” Dana said, sliding into the room. She took the floor next to Maureen, and Cecil sat on the couch with Carlos.

Well, it started out peaceful, at least.

 _“Die, fucker, die!_ ” Maureen screamed as Ike threw Link over the edge of Zelda’s Temple. Cecil managed to kick her in the face in the process of pressing the right buttons to save Link. Meanwhile, Pit and Sheik were battling for a smash ball, which Pit eventually won when Dana stole Carlos’ controller and slid it across the floor.

“Damn it!” Cecil yelled when his attack on Carlos backfired and Link was killed as a result.

“That’s what you get for thinking I’m so easily distracted, bastard,” Carlos replied smugly, glancing at Cecil’s arms, which were pinned beneath Carlos’ legs. Cecil fought to get loose, but the others teamed up on him, and they killed Link three times before Carlos let him go.

“Fuck you guys, that was my last life!” Cecil pouted.

“Grow a pair and go get me a shot, crybaby. You can get revenge next game,” Maureen said. “Anyone else want something?”

“I want some shots,” Dana chimed in.

“You guys drink?” Carlos asked. Dana glanced at him, smiling.

“Like I said, terrible Muslim.”

Carlos shrugged, wearing an amused grin when he ordered one as well. “Alright, then, I’ll take a shot.”

“Brilliant, we can all get drunk together then,” Cecil agreed. He came back carrying a plate full of shot glasses. Maureen stood, taking a glass and holding it high in the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate our dearest friend Cecil’s talent for writing fictionally, and to give a big _fuck you_ to anyone who tells him not to follow his passion.”

Cecil blushed furiously, realizing that he was surrounded by the only people on earth that had ever read Night Vale. Maureen downed her shot and grabbed a second one before continuing.

“A toast, to all the teens with parents that are shit at being parents. Fuck parents!” she shouted, downing her second shot too.

“Fuck parents!” Dana and Cecil echoed. Carlos watched them take their shots. To Cecil, Carlos’ expression was unreadable.

“Fuck parents,” Carlos said stiffly, but his eyes were angry before he closed them and threw back his shot. The alcohol burned his throat and went straight to his head. Carlos took another one.

“Hold on,” Cecil said, holding Carlos’ wrist when he reached for a third one. “Is this your first time drinking?”

Carlos could feel his head spinning. “And if it is?”

“I just think you should hold off on a third until you see how it affects you. Maureen drinks all the time, so two shots is nothing to her. Okay?”

“Alright.” Cecil smiled, and when Maureen set up the next game of Super Smash Bros, he stretched out across Carlos’ lap like a cat. He could feel Carlos smiling at him, losing focus on the game at hand.

_Sorry, Carlos, I’m here to win._

He flashed Carlos a wicked grin, and nearly laughed at the moment of clarity as he understood what Cecil had done. With one solid motion, Cecil knocked everyone’s controllers out of their hands with strategically placed limbs. Link ran for the safe zone in the arena, and Cecil laughed triumphantly as everyone else was swept away in a wave of lava.

“Fuck you, assbutt!” Maureen hit him hard as Link was declared the winner.

“Payback, bitch!” Cecil said, his words slightly slurred. Slurred? How much had he had to drink? Carlos was laughing his ass off, and Cecil could practically _see_ the alcohol running through his blood.

“You’re the winner,” Carlos declared, taking Cecil’s head in his hands. “You’re the winner and there’s nothing they can do about it.” He crushed their lips together, clumsily kissing Cecil up his jaw until he was all but making out with Cecil’s eyebrow.

“Oh my god,” Dana yelled, pulling them apart. “I just had the best idea. You wanna know what it is?”

“Tell me, I wanna know so bad,” Maureen answered. Wow, Cecil hadn’t been paying attention to what they were drinking at _all_.

“We should chicken fight in your pool!”

“Holy fuck yes I wanna chicken fight!” Carlos yelled, jumping off the couch and somehow managing to stay upright. He and Dana rushed outside, and Maureen grabbed a pair of speakers and her phone and followed them with Cecil.

“Alright, fuckers, strip to your panties and let’s get this thing started,” Maureen yelled, setting the speakers up just short of the edge of the pool. The air was just slightly chilly, but the water was still warm from the day when Cecil jumped in wearing only his boxers.

Maureen turned on some music—an artist Cecil didn’t know with a steady drum beat and a blues-style feel that his Cecil deep in his chest and fit the mood perfectly. It made the night feel like a dream.

Carlos jumped in behind him, splashing Cecil completely before he swam up. Carlos wrapped his arms around Cecil’s waist, placing his chin on his shoulder. One thing was for absolute certain—Carlos was even more physical drunk than he was sober.

Dana and Maureen jumped in together, wearing sports bras and panties.

“Let’s do this,” Dana yelled. “Me and Maureen against the boys!”

“Get on my shoulders,” Carlos said, turning his back to Cecil. He ducked under the water and Cecil climbed onto his shoulders easily. Dana did the same with Maureen, and the four faced off. They circled around each other like sharks, Cecil and Dana making ridiculous martial arts motions with their arms.

“Come on, ladies,” Carlos mocked. “Don’t be shy.”

“Maureen?” Dana asked with a British accent.

“Yes, my lady?” Maureen answered.

“Did that sound like a call to battle to you?”

“I believe it was, my lady.” They stared at Cecil and Carlos curiously for a moment. Their gazes made Cecil’s stomach drop, and he barely had time to decide that it might not have been such a good idea to taunt them when Dana raised her arm at them.

“FOR NARNIA _!”_ Dana screamed, and Maureen rushed towards them. Cecil’s vision turned into a mess of pushing and screaming as he and Dana tried to pull each other into the pool. Dana grabbed Cecil’s wrist and Maureen backed up, trying to catch him off guard, but Carlos reacted quickly despite the alcohol in him and followed her.

“Cecil, replay!” Carlos shouted, and through God or magic or whatever else the Void had to offer, Cecil knew exactly what he meant. He grabbed Dana’s arm and Carlos backed up, pulling the exact move the girls had just tried to play on them. With a scream, Dana fell face first into the water. Cecil threw his hands up and screamed his victory.

“Fuck you!” Dana coughed. “That was so cheap!”

“All’s fair,” Cecil grinned.

“I think the lady doth protest too much,” Carlos added.

“Just remember that the lady knows exactly where you live, Cecil,” Maureen reminded them. “And she’s a master of revenge.”

“It’s true,” Dana said, pushing herself out of the pool. “I’m not drunk enough to tolerate losing to boys. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need another shot.”

“You read my mind,” Maureen replied. She followed Dana into the house, not caring that they were both dripping all over the house.

They took the noise with them. As they disappeared, the night became so calm, it seemed to be frozen. Even the album Maureen had put on had changed into something beautiful. It was still the same voice, but gone was the steady drum beat. It had been replaced with soft guitar and a beautiful melody.

Cecil took the quiet opportunity to swim a little, kicking lazy circles around Carlos, who had taken to floating on his back. Whenever Cecil swam past his head, Carlos traced Cecil’s side with his fingertips. Just gently, so Cecil could barely feel it against the current of the water. When his skin lost contact with Carlos’ fingers, Cecil missed it.

“You’re so beautiful,” Carlos whispered, watching him swim. Touch. Absence. More swimming. Tracing fingers. Absence.

Cecil swam smaller circles around him, so he could feel Carlos’ fingers on his skin more and more until he was right next to him. Carlos turned to look at him, just inches from Cecil.

“So beautiful,” Carlos repeated. “My perfect Cecil.”

He kissed Cecil softly, a total opposite from how he’d kissed him earlier. That had been drunk and sloppy—this was calm and loving. The song strummed quietly around them, and Cecil had never been more in love.

_Love._

That was a new thought.

_Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter! Hope you guys liked it, you've waited long enough! In case you were wondering, the songs Maureen plays at the party are Arsonist's Lullaby and Like Real People Do, both by Hozier. He's amazing, please check him out. As I'm writing this, the voice in my head sounds suspiciously like Joseph Fink, and for some reason I'm okay with that.
> 
> Muslim Dana is a favorite headcanon of mine, and I really hope you guys like it too and I didn't insult anyone.
> 
> So, like, what's up with Carlos? What's going on in his family life that we don't know about? He was acting pretty odd this chapter, right? Weird...
> 
> Hey, if you like what I'm doing and you want to see more of it, follow me on Twitter @ragequitwriting to do that. I talk a lot about this fic, other fics, what I'm reading and what you should be reading, and also I love to talk to people. Thanks.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Next time: Cecil gets a phone call, a boyfriend, and detention. But at least he's with a certain someone...


End file.
